


homebound

by BabaTunji



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cousin Incest, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24887503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabaTunji/pseuds/BabaTunji
Summary: When the news of T'Chaka's death reaches him, N'Jadaka comes home.
Relationships: Erik Killmonger/T'Challa
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	homebound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UnknownEnigma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownEnigma/gifts).



> Have you ever read and felt *full*? I have. This is a gift for UnknownEnigma. I read through their fic the original and the edited, “Unbreak My heart” and I was *fed.* Thank you so much for writing, thank you for reaching out to me and thank you for putting your whole foot into that lovely fic. For all the N’Jadakas that could have been.
> 
> In loving memory of baetchalla and cutthroatfics (y'll were right... damn)
> 
> I think this might be the last time I write fic that starts at this point... but honestly people aren't writing it right for me so I just have to expound in different ways.

Erik gets the news hours too late. The footage is public, and it's blowing up everywhere. From there he’s moving, not even thinking to get out the city he’s been recuperating in. His handler doesn’t stop him and there’s just radio silence. Throughout his network and throughout Wakanda no doubt. Their king is dead.

It’s blurry after that, the flight back home. His suspiciously fast checkpoint at the Border. W’Kabi is nowhere to be seen but their friendship holds fast even in his absence. Entering the capital after months away is almost dream-like. As if someone pressed a ‘sepia’ filter to the usual vibrant city sky, as if the earth itself mourned with the people. 

Erik makes his way to the palace proper silently, utilizing the special tunnels that ran all over the city underground. He’s stopped at the Queen Mother’s wing by a set of Dora Milaje. Erik pleads and after terse moments they let him pass. Inside the wing he walks for long minutes before he finds his aunty.

“N’Jadaka.” His aunt sounds surprised to see him, a part of Erik is surprised to be here too. He left years ago and came back sporadically to pass etiquette. Her eyes are clear of tears, though there is a thin red rim that gives her previous activities away.

Erik kneels, falling forward so that his forehead is perpendicular to the floor. Words fail him, consolations too. This feels right, a promise and a request and a reminder for what the Queen Mother is owed. Erik may have hated T’Chaka on a good day, but it’s a different story with his aunt by marriage, his mother by law.

“Stand up.” A command in her tribe's tongue and not the Panther Tribe’s this time. A lapse due to grief maybe, that and understanding.

Erik doesn’t stand. He needs her to understand, he needs her to see him. His head to the cold floor he forgets his pride and every petty thing he cared about to reassure her, this once.

He prostrates like that for what seems like forever but is only a few moments before she approaches him. Smooth hands pull him up and once he’s eye level into a bone crushing hug. Erik goes willingly gripping her in kind. They don’t speak, they don’t need to. His aunt could read him when he was a homesick cry-baby little boy dragged to his new home, that hasn’t changed. When they separate, she leads him to the sitting room and they talk, Erik mostly listens.

-:-

Everything is useless, their networks, the Dog of War division, their spies, their diplomacy or attempts rather. It’s all useless. T’Challa struggles to breathe after they hit another wall. His father is dead, and they are no closer to finding the true killer. Barnes is a dead man and a red herring besides, his small but irritating group of supporters attested for him and Wakandan surveillance confirmed it.

His father is dead.

What would he tell his mother? His people?

They had taken the body home the day before and now T’Challa is alone with only his Dora and the occasional intelligence officer for company. They are all scrubbed raw. Someone outsmarted them, someone slipped through their vibranium net, someone has undone them and that someone is still unknown.

“T’Challa?” He looks away from the gray of the office they have been relegated to while discussing with foreign intelligence. Ayo addresses him and the concern in her voice makes him want to hide.

“Yes…?” He doesn’t think this is a mission update, and he answers in their common tongue.

“We have done all we can today, perhaps it’s time to retire?” Said like that it sounds like a request or plea, but T’Challa knows it’s not. He shakes his head stubborn despite his exhaustion.

“Not yet.” Her response is a purse of the lips and a dubious expression before she nods and walks away. Then comes a sound, harsh in the quiet room. A jingle of some sort, annoyingly musical.

It takes him embarrassingly long seconds to connect the sound to the vibrating piece of metal in his pocket. The phone is pre-historic by Wakandan standards and a necessity when they left familiar territories. Hesitantly he brings it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“We found a second body and Stark wants to talk to you.” Birini, the Division’s director, gets to the point. Her vowels stretch over Tony Stark’s name, the only word of English in her sentence. The two parts of their sentence do not make sense to T’Challa, but he expects an explanation shortly. All War Dogs in the region were on high alert and were now reporting directly to Ayo who then reported to him.

“Where?” He assumes the talk will occur at a place and a time. Birini corrects him,

“Now.”

-:-

Linda sends him a message a few days after he arrives back in the capital. It lights a fire under his ass, and he curses at the timing of every fucking thing this week. His target was finally ready to move, and he is nowhere near where he needs to be. He doesn’t know how soon he can leave either. The burial rites for T’Chaka stretched for days and Erik’s decision to come back meant he couldn’t leave without finishing what he promised to do. He promised to stand by his aunty, in whatever capacity she needed. He couldn’t just disappear for a couple days to chase that man. He sends Linda a ‘wait’ code and tries not to feel trapped. He had worked long hours towards this and now… would he really just let his chance slip away?

Shuri slides up to his side and pulls her in for a one-sided hug. He’s been giving those a lot lately. She’s been sleeping in her lab these couple of days, he had to dig her out on the second day of his arrival. He almost lost an arm, but she ate food that wasn’t from the lab fridge and gave him one watery smile in the end. Right now, they’re both sitting on a bench at the edge of the field. In the middle there are priests and assorted respected elders. Wakanda didn’t play around with the grieving process and for someone like T’Chaka…? There were rituals a mile long that all had to be completed and too many people to count who would ask to participate in the process. Everyone did it differently, but the heavy almost physical response is the same. Erik is tired of most of it, yet he sticks around anyway.

Shuri is tired too because she avoids most of the traditional functions as much as she can, working on something special when her body doesn't force her to rest for too few hours. Her mother in contrast practically throws herself into the flow of ritual and tradition. Days into it, Erik is mostly certain it was for the people’s benefit and not hers. A good queen, particularly a queen mother would always look after the affairs of her people, even before herself. Erik got the honor of staying by her side and assisting in the early hours when she didn’t quite have her usual composure. He knows how she’s really feeling, and he salutes her for her dedication, if he were in her place, he would never leave his rooms, priests, people and rituals be damned.

“They say they’ve found him.” Shuri speak in a low tone, careful to whisper even though no one would hear them far as they were from the proceedings.

Erik isn’t attached to his news feed the way Shuri is and has to check himself. T’Chaka’s killer had been apprehended and it wasn’t who they originally thought it was. He scans through the news briefly before exiting away with a gesture of his left hand.

“Good.” He has nothing else to say to it.

“T’Challa will be home soon.” Shuri’s tone is neither excited nor hopeful. Erik thinks if he were inclined to dig into it, there might even be some resentment somewhere. Thankfully he’s not inclined to ask the princess how she’s feeling or whether it bothered her that her brother had been more focused on running around in the hopes of hunting his father’s killer than checking in on his mother and sister. He’s sure the Division did more of the legwork than T’Challa anyway, he could have directed the search from home. But that’s neither here nor there.

Challenge day would occur as soon as T’Challa made it back. Then life would continue like it always had and Erik would leave again. When the silence laps into several minutes, Shuri asks: “Why did you come back?”

It’s not the worst thing she could have asked, but it’s up there.

“You didn’t miss me?” He answers with his own joking question. It’s a brittle joke.

“N’Jadaka—of course I did. We all did.” Shuri sounds earnest but Erik knows it’s not quite true. The person he wants most to miss him didn’t.

He doesn’t want to answer her question. He came home because he is selfish, he came home because that was the right thing to do. He came home because he hoped (stupidly) T’Challa would be home too.

“I came home for aunty… and for you.” It’s true, sort of. He owed the queen mother his life in more ways than one and Shuri is like a little sister to him.

“Not… T’Challa?” Shuri says a little too knowingly for his liking.

“T’Challa doesn’t need me.” T’Challa had others, and at least one person he would most certainly go running to if she allowed him. He can tell by the shape of Shuri’s lip she doesn’t agree but she doesn’t argue thankfully, and they pass the rest of the burial rite in silence. Broken only by his aunt’s joining them and their leaving the vicinity an hour later.

-:-

Nakia doesn’t look happy to see him. It hurts more than it should have, she doesn’t even berate him much for ruining her mission. Her expression after he tells her the news reflects some of the grief in his own, but there is a catch. When she takes his hand, when they talk. He reads what’s being offered and what’s not. This would not be a chance for the two of them to ‘reconcile.’ She would do her duty and pay her respects to T’Chaka and to him, but that was it.

They touch down at the palace and T’Challa mentally prepares himself to greet his mother and sister. He had spoken to both of them very little in the last week. Only to give terse updates and convey his current status. He hadn’t had the space of mind for any proper conversations and they seemed to understand. Now that he’s done what he needs to though, there is a quarter of guilt. He could have come home sooner, in the beginning at least. Faced his mother and his failure 1st before running after his father’s killer. But he hadn’t been able to, so now he did it with Nakia besides him and the knowledge that he at least avenged his father’s death. He would rather he still had his father, but this is something.

He expects to see the Dora, his sister, and his mother. He doesn’t expect to see N’Jadaka.

His cousin stands beside his mother, to her left, Shuri to her right. When had he returned? Why hadn’t anyone told him? T’Challa greets his mother first, holding her close. Then Shuri, and finally his cousin. They in turn greet him, Nakia and Okoye. He and N’Jadaka as opposed to Shuri don’t touch and N’Jadaka’s smirk is infuriatingly polite. His cousin was more talkative that night in Toronto, and while T’Challa doesn’t remember the night that well he remembers that small piece. The exchange is all very cordial if cool where Nakia is involved.

The day’s ceremonies precluding Challenge Day were already underway and T’Challa can see a story in the way N’Jadaka sticks to his mother’s side when she turns away to walk back to the palace’s central courtyard. He doesn’t know if he likes it. N’Jadaka came home, after years away. He presumably came after T’Challa’s father’s death. He had been there when T’Challa wasn’t. Sat through burial rites, and rituals, comforted his mother and sister. Why? His cousin played black sheep faithfully most days, why change now?

He doesn’t have much time to contemplate it, marching with Okoye and other Dora to the ceremonial grounds in preparation for the day.

-:-

Lord M’Baku was bold. T’Challa gives no quarter and the fight is magnificent, there is no moment where Erik thinks T’Challa will lose. Without the herb T’Challa is more mortal, but the Jabari man fights a losing battle. He expects T’Challa to kill M’Baku, but his cousin shows mercy. It ends the unusual challenge on a very high note, and Erik watches besides Shuri as the crowds seem to vibrate with glee, triumphant with their new king’s victory, screaming his name in frenzy.

Erik is less joyful, he had missed an opportunity, one he would never get back. He needed to leave as soon as possible. So, while the rest of Wakanda partied, danced, and drank in celebration he made his plans to leave. He’s been staying in the queen’s wing since he arrived so there’s not much for him to clean or pack. His apartment in the War Dog quarters is similarly empty. He hasn’t lived here in years.

Would it be worse or better to say goodbye to Shuri? He couldn’t skip out on his aunt, and she at least would hopefully not make it awkward. Shuri though… ugh. He’s still deciding when he gets a visit from an unlikely visitor.

Nakia still has on her traditional clothing and special face paint. She looks as stunning as ever. Erik can admit that even if jealousy ran strong in his mind most days.

“I heard your mission was interrupted.” No small talk, just straight to the point.

“What about it?” They aren’t friends, sometimes allies, work colleagues but not friends.

“Mine was interrupted as well; I could assist you on your next.” The offer is generous, too generous. She knew. Or at least suspected something.

“No.” He’s not explaining himself and he doesn’t care who gave her a tip.

“Don’t be arrogant N’Jadaka, you lost time, work. I can help—”

“Are you deaf? I said no.” This is his mission; he doesn’t want her anywhere near it.

“I know him. We’ve met before, I could make it easier.” Nakia’s tone isn’t quite pleading but there’s a note there.

Erik doesn’t budge. “He knows me too. What’s your point?” He and Klaue even fucked since Nakia wasn’t pretending anymore to not know what his mission would be.

“I need a mission, fast. Let me help you and I’ll…” She trails off and Erik despite himself waits to see what she’ll offer. He knows why she’s in such a hurry to get the fuck out. Maybe T’Challa proposed again? The thought makes the bitterness in him grow. He wants to be past this. When she doesn’t say it, he tells her with a little too much relish, “Why don’t you rest a bit Nakia? You’ve been on non-stop missions. I’m sure you can find someone to occupy your time at home.”

“Jealousy is ugly on you N’Jadaka.” Nakia’s temper must be smarting and Erik’s smirk drops.

“What’s there to be jealous of? This is me showing pity.”

“I’m not blind and I know what happened in Toronto.”

Well that puts a stop to what was going to be a really snide response from Erik. The latter not the former part of her sentence.

“Nothing happened in Toronto.” Erik says instead of just keeping his mouth shut.

“You should know better than to let him get to you when he’s sad.”

“It didn’t mean anything!” The minute Erik raises his voice he knows he’s lost the fight for calm. He goes back to fiddling with his equipment. This entire conversation is stupid, he wouldn’t say yes to Nakia. His pride stings more at her knowing than the reminder of his own weakness. All it took was a little alcohol and he was on his knees for a man he was pretty sure he hated most days. Why had T’Challa even told her? And Erik knew it was him that did, there were no one else that night around.

“I’m never going back to him. You know it, now let me help you.”

He takes a deep breath so he can say ‘no’ and then something else occurs to him.

“Who told you?” He didn’t mean about his sucking T’Challa’s dick. He meant his mission. It is supposed to be off the books, totally clean, his call, alladat.

“He was very… sloppy recently. I’m guessing so his buyers could find him.”

Erik bites his lip and fights a long, hard ‘FUCK.’

If he were already on ground it wouldn’t matter, but he was here and… Fuck! Only a matter of time till it went from the division to to Border Patrol, Border Tribe and naturally T’Challa. Time is of the essence, he needed to move last week. He wants to scratch his face with how angry he’s getting.

“Fine. Mission support only, don’t fucking touch him. He’s mine.” He meant Klaue.

Nakia smiles the smile of someone used to getting what they want, and Erik wants to immediately renege. He doesn’t and grabs his backpack and the heavy equipment bag holding his guns, weapons, money, passports and all the other silly shit needed to travel outside Wakanda and not die.

She doesn’t look mission ready, but he would bet real money, her bags are packed too. He gives her two hours to come find him, promising to leave without her if she were late.

-:-

**Author's Note:**

> This is me applying peer pressure lmao, if i post half i gotta finish it... blessings on Enigma again for feeding me so nicely. Looking forward to future collabs ^^


End file.
